


Neither Sought Nor Knew

by pumpkinpodfic (thegreatpumpkin), the_rck



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Age Difference, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Curse of Obedience, F/M, Magical Bond, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Power Imbalance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11499639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/pseuds/pumpkinpodfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Sarah could never figure out, later, which of them was more surprised the second time she summoned the Goblin King. It was a toss up, too, which of them was the more appalled when he had to answer.He smiled at her that time and promised her the stars at her feet, but his eyes were tight with anger even as he offered her his hand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Phillis Wheatley's "On Being Brought from Africa to America."
> 
> I very much hesitated over calling this Jareth/Sarah because, although that's where it's going, it only approaches it.

| 

## Streaming Audio

## Downloads

  * [MP3](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2017/NeitherSoughtNorKnew.mp3) | **Size:** 49.4 MB | **Duration:** 53:58

  
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Sarah could never figure out, later, which of them was more surprised the second time she summoned the Goblin King. It was a toss up, too, which of them was the more appalled when he had to answer.

He smiled at her that time and promised her the stars at her feet, but his eyes were tight with anger even as he offered her his hand.

She wasn’t young enough not to recognize the danger, but she was still young enough to think that it wouldn’t bite her. Not her. Never her. Because she was special. Because she had defeated him already. Because watching him move made her body feel peculiar in a way that none of the boys-- or girls-- her own age did.

She smiled and thanked him and forced herself to be sensible. All she asked for was a guide back to the trail she’d lost, the one that led back to the campsite where her father and stepmother and Toby were waiting.

She didn’t recognize the slight change in his posture as relief until some time later when she was analyzing every second of their interaction. She could have asked for-- demanded-- anything at all. What had he thought she might want? What had he feared she might want?

What might she actually want?

She left the question mostly alone for several months. It came up in her fantasies more than once, and her orgasms from those masturbatory sessions were always much more powerful. They were also more embarrassing because he was, after all, the villain in her story.

And then she got angry at the idea that her story was over completely before she’d even finished high school.

The third time she summoned him, she did it quite deliberately. It was more in the nature of a test than anything else, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do with him. She waited until she had the house to herself then put the kettle on and opened the box of chocolates her father had recently given her. She wasn’t sure if the Goblin King could safely eat in her world, but she wanted to offer. It seemed polite.

None of the research she had done since her return from the Labyrinth had really answered her questions because a lot of it seemed to be bullshit. She couldn’t tell if the rest was true or just beyond her ability to see as obviously false.

While she waited for the kettle to boil, she thought hard about wanting him there with her. She hadn’t spoken the last time, but she’d been desperate enough to think of him and his power and of how convenient both would be right then.

Nothing happened.

She shredded a tissue then got up and threw it away. When she sat down, she closed her eyes and tried to picture his face. “Jareth.” It came out as the barest whisper. She hadn’t ever said his name before. “I want you here.” She managed to say that more firmly.

Just as she started to relax, started to believe that he wouldn’t come, he appeared on the other side of the table. He stood behind the chair she’d put there for him.

If she hadn’t been looking, if she’d been as young as when she first met him, she’d have missed the bitter anger in his posture and seen only his smile.

He raised his eyebrows at her and didn’t say anything.

“There’ll be water for tea soon,” she told him “if that’s of interest to you, and you’re welcome to share my chocolates.”

He hesitated just enough for her to notice then pulled out the chair and sat. “What kind of tea?”

“Earl Grey, mint, a lavender green blend, whatever else is in the cupboard. I think we have some chai powder, too, with dried milk and sugar mixed in already. Toby likes that.” She tried to force her shoulders to relax. “If you want to look, you can. There’s nothing else urgent.”

He sat without moving or speaking for what seemed to her a very long time. He only looked at her.

She bit her lip in an effort not to babble at him. After almost a minute, she said, “I… had the impression you were as surprised, last time, as I was.”

For a brief moment, he looked almost tired. “You’re testing.”

She nodded. She was about to say something further when the kettle whistled. She walked past him into the kitchen to take it off the heat.

“I’ll take the chai,” he said once she was in the kitchen.

She rummaged in the cupboard to find the powdered chai. She set that down next to the mugs she’d set out before putting the kettle on. Her cup already had a bag containing mint inside, so she poured the water into that. She hesitated. “Maybe you should add your own. I don’t know how strong you want it.” She opened the drawer for a spoon then stopped. “Is there any reason you wouldn’t want a stainless steel teaspoon?”

“No. No reason at all.” 

His voice was so dry, so neutral, that she couldn’t tell if he was lying. She could think of several reasons he might lie, but all of them came down to considering her a threat.

She filled his cup about two thirds of the way with water and took the mug, the spoon, and the powder out to him. She didn’t stay to watch what he did, just turned around and went back for her own mug. By the time she took her seat across from him, he had finished whatever he intended to do-- or not-- with the spoon. It lay on the table next to his mug. She couldn’t tell whether or not it was wet.

She looked down at her cup for a moment then lifted her eyes to meet his. “I didn’t realize, last time, that you didn’t expect… what happened then. Not until well after.” She wasn’t willing to apologize. His assistance might or might not have saved her life. She’d been close enough to where she needed to be that someone would likely have found her. Probably. “Which means that isn’t normal.”

He shrugged and wrapped his hands around his mug. “Things are never the same twice.”

She wondered if that was a warning. “I needed to know if it would only happen when I was in danger or if--” She shook her head. She brought her tea up close to her face so that she could inhale the steam. When she put it down again, she squared her shoulders. “I haven’t forgotten who you are.”

His smile tightened and almost broke. “Your mirror and your desires?” His voice was gentle, almost seductive. He raised a hand, and a crystal sphere appeared on his fingertips.

She inhaled sharply and tried to forget her fantasies. “That,” she said, after a moment, “and all of the things lurking behind that. You’d swallow me if I let you.”

He tilted his head very slightly to one side. “But you have all of the power here.” The sphere rolled from one hand to the other then back again.

She refused to let her eyes be drawn to the movement. “I can’t be the only person to have defeated you. Forever is a very, very long time.”

The sphere popped like a soap bubble. “You’re not. It doesn’t happen often, but you’re not the only one. Not even the only one this decade. Most people get lost and, if they find their way out in time to escape, never try again. Some simply find a better place for themselves in my realm.”

She was certain he was telling the truth as far as it went, and she wondered why. She sipped her tea and didn’t ask. She took three chocolates and ate them one by one. When she was done, she said, “I could… test this thing between us until I screw up and you win. Or I might not and you might not. Maybe I’m just that smart and that powerful.” She forced a laugh. “I’d sure as hell like to be, but that’s a whole different set of traps, isn’t it?”

He looked away.

She nodded because, by not answering, he had answered clearly. “I’m not willing to let go completely. I don’t trust you that much.”

“I will--”

She held up a hand, and he fell silent. She was a little surprised that it worked and then wondered if he was just deceiving her. It was possible, and, as enticing as the fantasies of power were, she really didn’t want to test the limits of what she could do to him or make him do. She looked at the table so that she wouldn’t be quite as tempted. “I may make stories that… aren’t very nice, but there’s a big difference between a story and people.” She squeezed her hands around her mug and let the heat distract her. “I’m not going to forget that you’re real.”

Looking at him, she was certain that he wanted very badly to leave. She wondered if he couldn’t until she let him or if he simply knew that she could summon him again if she wanted. She sighed. “Even if I figure out how I could, I won’t pass this power to someone else. Not without your permission. I won’t--” She groped for the right words. “I’ll try very hard only to call on you when I really need… your sort of help or have no other choice. So--” She forced a smile. “--not just for tea. Not more than this once.”

“This wasn’t just for tea.” His smile had completely disappeared. He was studying her as if she presented a puzzle.

“Well, no.” She’d thought it less risky than having him turn up every time she was in trouble. Eventually, he’d find a way to savage her. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting something very, very terrible to happen to me now.” She hoped he’d understand that she knew he was likely to take steps to arrange it if he could.

He laughed. “So you have a tiger by the tail, and you know that I bite. Do you think that your promises will protect you?”

For a moment, she was angry. Then she realized that he wanted that and wondered why. “Would you rather I tested the limits of this whatever it is?” She shook her head as she realized that she understood. “Of course. Then I might make a mistake or you might find a weak link in what’s holding you. I’m not that Sarah any more.”

For a moment she thought he wasn’t seeing her anymore. “Of course,” he said when his eyes focused on her again. “Time passes, doesn’t it?” HIs smile bared his teeth just a little.

“For me.” She sipped her tea. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t mean much to you.” She hoped he didn’t realize how frightened she would be if she let herself think about what he was and what he likely could do. She suspected that he already knew most of the various temptations that he represented for her. And probably, she thought, a few more besides. “Unless something’s changed about me, something I don’t know about, I’m mortal. All you need to do is wait.”

He picked up his mug and drank.

Sarah tried not to wince at the thought of how hot the contents must still be.

After he set down his mug, he stared at her for almost ten seconds. She was sure the color of his eyes changed at least twice. His shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. “I can’t tell.” He sounded as if his castle had collapsed around him. Then he straightened in his seat and smiled at her.

She wondered how desperate he actually was. “In general or just about me?”

He snorted. “I think I’d have noticed if it was other things.”

She nodded. More than a year had passed for her, after all. She considered her next words, letting them roll around in her mind as she tried to decide if they were wise. “This might be something that just happened with nothing making it, but… Is there anyone who would want to hurt you? Anyone who could do this?”

He started to laugh but cut it short. “Given what I am do you doubt it?” His eyes narrowed, and he tapped his fingers on the table top. “There is,” he said slowly, “a moment of vulnerability when someone like you--” His lips twisted as if the words tasted bad. “--defeats me. The Labyrinth should protect me.” He sounded utterly certain of that.

She hesitated. She didn’t like the implications. “Would it protect you from something-- someone-- already inside?” There were very few options in that direction. It almost had to be one of her friends. She didn’t like to think that any of them had used her.

For the briefest moment, he looked as if he almost liked her. “Possibly not.”

Which, she suspected, meant almost certainly not. She closed her eyes. She very much didn’t want to point Jareth at her friends if he didn’t get there on his own.

“Hoggle was outside the walls when you met him, but I remember him. I know him,” Jareth said. “Sir Didymus and Ambrosius. The large brown beast. The baby.”

And she knew. If he didn’t know Ludo’s name, the answer was obvious. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see from his expression that he didn’t realize. “I very much doubt it was Toby,” she told him. “That would be too much of a stretch.”

Ludo-- Ludo visited less often than Hoggle but more often than Sir Didymus. He was always gentle and not just with her. He even played with Toby sometimes. Of the others, only Ambrosius would.

She tried to feel betrayed, but she couldn’t help thinking that Ludo, of all the possibilities, had to have had a good reason and certainly hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“If it was Toby, that would mean that someone chose you and set you up for it all.”

“You think someone else worked through Toby?” She couldn’t keep her disbelief off of her face or out of her voice.

“It fits the facts.” His voice was grim. “If you’d lost, he’d have stayed and been there whenever someone else actually did win. A perfect Trojan Horse. Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ambrosius were all-- Well, there was no guarantee they’d be anywhere near when it happened.”

He hadn’t even thought to mention Ludo. Now, she was completely certain. But, if she told Jareth, what would he do to Ludo? Could he do something to Ludo?

Was she prepared to risk it?

She supposed she still trusted Ludo. He hadn’t used her and abandoned her. He hadn’t-- and he could have. Any of them could have-- taught her cruelty.

“I suspect that, if someone had gone to those lengths, they’d have made sure I was the sort of person to-- I think about things I could do with you, to you, about things I could learn, about all of that, but, to really hurt you, I’d pick someone who actually _would_.”

Bleakness swept over his face. When he spoke, it permeated his words. “I expect you’ll get there. People always do, and you’ve got time for it.”

She shrugged. He wouldn’t believe her if she promised not to. “Toby seems like an ordinary child. He might have been a-- a doorway, but I don’t think there’s anything like that now. There doesn’t need to be.” She didn’t like Jareth blaming Toby. It wasn’t safe. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “That’s one of the few things I’d try to-- to command you on. I don’t want you hurting Toby.”

For just a moment, he looked ancient and terrifying and heartless. Then he seemed to shrink to merely human. “As you wish.” He didn’t sound at all happy about it.

She swallowed hard and sipped her tea to hide her fear. After almost a minute of silence, she said, “That wasn’t exactly a command.”

“Apparently, it doesn’t matter.”

She’d never heard his voice that cold before. She frowned. “I’m trying!” She winced as she heard the petulance in her words. She sighed. “My friends still visit. That would have been enough magic for me.”

“Most don’t keep that much,” he said softly. “One world or the other is all most people get. It’s kinder when the memories wither and fall away.”

She took another chocolate and crushed it between her fingers so that the filling oozed out. “You’re cruel in other ways. Why not that?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took a chocolate himself and studied it. After a moment, he took a bite.

“There’s never been any point in wondering, but--” She hesitated. She wasn’t sure she really wanted-- or needed-- to know. “What would have happened, at the end, if I’d lost?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “At the end? What happens to my… visitors, depends on when I defeat them and how. If they choose to turn back, they can escape, more or less. They’ll forget the Labyrinth, but they’ll always know that they failed. It blights them.” He took another chocolate and ate it without letting his smile alter in the slightest. “Those who lose early, who end up trapped or tricked or--” He waved expansively. “What they become reflects how I defeated them and what in them let me do so. The closer they get to the castle, to me, to the heart of the Labyrinth, the stronger they are when I finally bring them to heel.”

She kept her face carefully neutral. He might well see through that, but she didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her falter.

“You would have been very powerful. You’d left childhood-- very deliberately-- so I wouldn’t have treated you like a child.”

Her breath caught, but she thought she didn’t give any other sign of fear.

His smile became something more mysterious, more seductive. “You could still have that…” He leaned toward her and held out his hand.

For several seconds, she couldn’t move. She wanted him at her feet more than she wanted to be at his, but, just for a moment, she wanted very badly to surrender. Finally, she managed to shake her head. She picked up her mug so that her hands couldn’t reach toward him on their own.

“I suppose it would be simpler all around,” she said once she was sure she wouldn’t say yes the moment she opened her mouth. “No more decisions for me. No more struggle for you.”

He lowered his hand and stared at her. Then he started to laugh, a deep belly laugh as if she’d said something truly funny. He kept on long enough that she thought he might never stop. When he did stop, he made a show of wiping his eyes. “You’re unique, Sarah.”

She suspected it wasn’t a compliment.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah lay with her head in Ludo’s lap while Ludo sang to her. Part of her worried that this made her vulnerable, but she couldn’t quite get to the point of being afraid of Ludo. They were under a willow with its branches shielding them from passersby. Not that anyone would see Ludo, but someone might question why she was there. Napping on the ground in the park, even in late May, was something only homeless people did.

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t want to have this conversation. Not ever. She had been happy with the way things were, with the way she had expected things to go on. “Ludo--” She pushed herself up on one elbow. “Ludo, I need to know.” She made herself meet his eyes. If he’d wanted to hurt her directly, he’d had thousands of opportunities.

Ludo made an inquiring noise.

“I told him not to listen, not to send anyone to listen, not to record our words.” She was sure she had left loopholes that Jareth would exploit, but she’d tried hard not to. Her even making the effort had certainly told Jareth that this mattered.

Ludo’s shoulders sagged.

_So I was right._ She felt no triumph at that. She reached out and touched Ludo’s shoulder. “I want to understand.” She swallowed hard and offered, “I forgave Hoggle.”

Ludo shook his head. He put one giant hand over Sarah’s hand on his shoulder. “Words. Hard.”

She’d known that, but she hadn’t let herself think about the problem. “I know.” Making guesses, asking yes or no questions, would limit her to the things she could think of. She sighed. “Is that so you can’t tell anybody?”

Ludo wobbled one hand back and forth. “Sing?”

Sarah had heard Ludo sing many times, and it was always wordless. Very pretty and very powerful but wordless. “Will that help?” She couldn’t quite hide her skepticism.

Ludo nodded firmly.

Sarah tried to read her friend’s face. She thought there was something more, something she didn’t understand.

“Dream,” he told her softly. “Sarah dream. Ludo dream.” The more words he spoke, the more difficult each successive word seemed to be.

Sarah looked at the screening willow branches. “I’m a little worried…” Would Ludo understand? “If someone sees me, it could be a problem.”

Ludo patted her shoulder reassuringly.

She sighed. “It’s not as if I have a better idea.” She laid her head in Ludo’s lap again and closed her eyes. She tried to relax and to breathe evenly.

Ludo started to sing.

 

Sarah and Ludo were in a garden. Roses and lilacs and peonies surrounded them, towering over them, and Sarah thought, vaguely, that there was something wrong with all of those flowering at once. _And peonies don’t get that tall._

“Sarah--”

She turned away from the flowers. _He sounds different._

“I only had a little… My choices were limited. I’m sorry.” Ludo’s face seemed more expressive now. 

Sarah hadn’t realized how much she relied on the rest of his body language to tell her how he felt. “I didn’t-- don’t-- want _him_.” She wasn’t quite ready to say that she accepted the apology. “Why me?”

Ludo sighed and turned away. “I was to pick someone who would win and who _could_ rule him, given the option. It didn’t have to be you, but…” He swung around to look at her again. “Of those I saw who might win, you were the only one who might not be destroyed by the power. It’s only a might not, or I wouldn’t regret it nearly as much.”

Sarah cleared her throat. “Was it--?” She really hoped it had been forced on him. “Did you have a choice?”

Ludo shook his head. “The Labyrinth was never supposed to become as powerful as it is.” He said it as if were a complete explanation. “He was supposed to, well, I suppose you could say he was supposed to play make-believe games until someone actually wanted him.”

_Oh. And he would hate that._ “And then he didn’t have to come.”

“Yes.”

_But now he does._ “Why hasn’t anyone come after me?” She really couldn’t understand that.

“Because they don’t know yet. You haven’t done anything big, and I… haven’t told them. They didn’t compel that.”

Sarah put her arms around Ludo and let her head rest against his arm. “I’m sorry, Ludo.” She tried to think what to do next. “Can I-- Can _he_ \-- break the spells on you?”

Ludo nodded but said, “It’s a bad idea. She’d know when it happened, and you’re not ready.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good enough reason.” She wasn’t sure it was a bad reason, either. “I won’t let him hurt you.” She knew that Jareth might well find a way around any commands she might give, but she intended to try. “Unless… Is it dangerous enough for you that he shouldn’t know at all?”

Ludo shuddered.

Sarah wasn’t sure she’d have noticed if she hadn’t been leaning on him.

“You need to decide,” Ludo said, “what you want out of this.” He sounded as if he was forcing the words out, as if they hurt. “My… mistress would try to bind you so that she can control him. Beyond that, she likely wouldn’t hurt you. She’d teach you and keep you in luxury. That’s more likely than the other options.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself that that outcome could be acceptable. “Or you might learn enough about using him and about your own powers to stand alone. That would… make you not-Sarah.”

_Because I wouldn’t stop. I’d go beyond terrible to-- Well, what’s beyond terrible? I’d kill and enslave and--_ Sarah shook her head. 

“You might-- Well, I don’t know how much time you have.” He pulled away from her. “The third option probably lets him control you.” He wobbled one hand back and forth. “There’s a chance. A small one. More time might have helped, but I… couldn’t tell you until you asked.”

She closed her eyes. She could trust Ludo up to the point where the geas on him began. She could trust Jareth to serve his own self-interest and to hurt her badly the moment he both could manage it and wouldn’t be cutting off his own nose. “He has to know what could happen.” Was it possible that Jareth was still too angry to have thought through all of the risks? “But he’s not used to being vulnerable at all.”

“I doubt he’s forgotten that.” Ludo sounded absolutely certain. “He just may think that you could be worse than any of the likely perpetrators.”

It took Sarah several seconds to realize that, for Jareth, ‘worse’ meant ‘more humiliating.’

Ludo sat on the grass and looked up at the sky. “You should call him. Here, no one will see or hear but us.”

Sarah had the impression that Ludo really didn’t want to see Jareth.

“Now that I know that you know,” Ludo told her softly, “I will have to report that you’re ready, that the binding took.” He kept looking at the sky. “You can’t let me leave, and we both know that you, on your own, can’t stop me. Not yet.”

_Oh._ Sarah went down on her knees and buried her face in the fur on Ludo’s back. “I do love you.” She tried to pretend that her tears weren’t soaking into his fur, but they both knew.

He reached around and patted her awkwardly. “Sarah. Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a long time before she stood and summoned Jareth.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jareth arrived, Sarah was looking closely at one of the peonies. She knew he was there even before he spoke, so she spoke first. “I’m sorry, but it’s… It’s urgent. As much for you as for me.” She ran her fingers over the flower then turned to look at him.

He had his eyes fixed on her and seemed oblivious to their surroundings until Ludo stood. Jareth’s eyes widened. “Cousin--”

Sarah thought that Jareth had forgotten about her. She didn’t want to remind him, but she thought that it was strange. _Maybe he’s just used to being safe?_ She narrowed her eyes as Jareth and Ludo looked at each other. _And maybe Ludo’s actually dangerous._

Ludo nodded. “Cousin. Aunt Elagred has taken an interest in you again.” The name seemed as difficult for Ludo as words in general were in the waking world. After he finished the sentence, he almost crumpled in on himself.

Sarah rushed to Ludo’s side and did her best to hold him up. She wasn’t sure she could give him any sort of strength, but she tried and only stopped when she heard a small noise of protest from Jareth. She turned and glared at Jareth. “Ludo is my friend!” She made herself go still for a moment. “You don’t have to, but please. I would be grateful.”

“We’re not in the Labyrinth, Sarah.”

Sarah wasn’t quite sure what warning she was supposed to take from Jareth’s tone. “He’s pushing at the edges of the spell on him,” she protested. “And he knows things we need to.” She hoped that, if nothing else worked, appealing to Jareth’s self-interest would work.

“Not that much,” Jareth said. “Now that I can see him, I know what’s going on.”

“You may know,” Sarah said tartly, “but I don’t, and you can’t just leave me out of it.” She studied Jareth’s expression.

“If I draw too much power from the Labyrinth, while I’m not there, while I’m not going about my normal duties, other… things can sense it. Do you really want those things to find this bubble of dream?”

“If it means Ludo’s okay, I don’t care!” But she did. She knew she had to. She closed her eyes for a moment. “There has to be some way to help him. He says we mustn’t let him leave.”

Ludo pulled himself upright again. “She wants you back very, very badly, Jareth.”

Jareth came closer to Ludo but on the other side of the creature than where Sarah stood. He put a hand on Ludo’s arm. “She always has. I’m sorry you got caught in it.”

Ludo laughed. “She was always going to do something with me. I’m not pretty or powerful, not in the ways she understands.” He managed to sound both amused and bitter. “She doesn’t like seeing me around, so I tend not to linger. She came and dug me out for this.”

Sarah could feel Jareth’s magic reaching out to explore the parameters of the dream world. She wasn’t sure if he simply hadn’t used his magic when they had tea together or if there was something different about this place or about the circumstances.

“Clever,” Jareth said at last. “Being outside of time means you’re not late in reporting your… progress. Mother certainly doesn’t know you can do this.” He gave Ludo a sharp look that faded into more general appraisal.

Ludo shrugged. He kept his eyes on Jareth but put his arm around Sarah.

It wasn’t until Jareth’s eyes narrowed and a flicker of a frown crossed his face that Sarah realized that Ludo was making a point. “Ludo,” she said. “It’s sweet, but I don’t want you in more trouble over me.”

“She’s not worth it,” Jareth said. An almost queasy expression crossed his face, and he frowned. He didn’t say anything for almost a minute. “That’s… rather more thorough than Mother’s usual work.” It didn’t sound exactly like a statement.

 _He’s figured something out, and he doesn’t like it._ Sarah could only guess at the meanings under what Ludo and Jareth were saying, and she didn’t like being ignorant. It put her at an even greater disadvantage. _I could demand an explanation. But not right now. Not until-- Until what? There’s something incomplete, something that has to happen._ She looked up at Ludo’s face.

Ludo bared his teeth at Jareth. “I know too well,” he said softly, “what having no power-- or the wrong power for the moment-- means. You forgot a long time ago. As long as we leave Aunt Elagred out of it, you won’t come to harm.” He shifted to put himself between Jareth and Sarah. “I was in the Labyrinth for a long time. I watched you. You’re crueler than your mother.”

Jareth actually blanched. He opened his mouth as if to speak then pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“None of them are even as strong as we were as toddlers, and you enjoy destroying them.” 

Jareth started studying a cluster of lilac blossoms. He glanced at Sarah and smiled. “It is very, very sweet.”

Sarah frowned at him. _He’s not looking at Ludo now._ “I already know you’re dangerous,” she told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten.” _I never will,_ she promised herself.

“When someone falls into my hands,” Jareth said softly, “I get everything they might ever have been. Not what they would have been but what they could have. Every future they might have found.” He looked taller, grimmer, and older.

“You can’t have mine,” Sarah told him firmly.

“Can’t I?” A wind rose around them that left Sarah untouched but tore Ludo away from her. “Your friend has no protections. You don’t even know his _name_.”

Sarah almost walked into the trap, almost promised to find Ludo’s true name in order to rescue him. Then she shook herself and met Jareth’s eyes, eyes that burned with yellow fire and were only just held back from devouring her. “I don’t need his name,” she said clearly. “I have yours.” She flicked her fingers at him and spoke to him in the tone she’d use to a misbehaving puppy. Or, sometimes, to Toby. “That’s enough, Jareth! You know better.” If she’d had a rolled up newspaper, she’d have smacked him across the face with it. “I want everything back the way it was.”

Jareth snarled at her as his wind eased. He spun on his heel so that all she could see was his back, the tightness of his shoulders. The branches and petals that had fallen slowly rose to where they had been before and reattached themselves.

Ludo shook himself out and walked over to Jareth. 

Sarah couldn’t hear what Ludo said to his cousin, but he continued speaking for quite a long time, long enough for her to start fidgeting.

Jareth’s anger didn’t seem to have eased by the time he turned to her again. He shook his head. “You take well to giving orders, my Lady. I’d almost think you wanted to.” His lips twisted.

“Of course I _want_ to,” Sarah retorted. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to, not when I don’t have to.” _Do I have to?_ She suspected that she was already trapped.

Jareth closed his eyes. When he looked at her again, his expression was bleak. His shoulders slumped just enough for her to notice. He went down on one knee. “My Lady,” he said in the flattest, most neutral voice possible. “I exist to serve.”

She bit her lip. “You don’t want that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

 _Because it will destroy me?_ “The person I might become will be terrible.” _I might hurt you because I want to rather than because I have to or because I made a mistake._ Sarah closed her eyes for a moment. Seeing Jareth on his knees before her had been one of her fantasies, and in those, she had never cared whether or not he wanted to be there. She took one step toward him and extended her hand. Then she froze, dropped her hand, and shook her head. “I don’t want to be terrible.” The words came out in the barest whisper, but suddenly they were the loudest sound in the garden.

“I don’t think,” Jareth said, equally quietly, “that you’re going to have any choice. Not any more than I will.” He kept his eyes on her face. “It might help to consider what I’d do to you, even now, if our positions were reversed.” He looked at the ground.

Sarah realized that she’d lost track of Ludo and looked around for him.

He was watching her and Jareth. Somehow, he had managed to fade into the background so that it was hard to see him at all.

“Jareth,” Sarah said. “We still need a safe place for Ludo, one he can’t get out of until we’re ready but one where he’ll be comfortable. I want to be able to visit, and I want to be able to leave again when I choose. Without your help.”

Jareth hesitated then nodded. He raised a hand and twisted it in a fluid motion. A crystal sphere appeared on his fingertips.

Ludo nodded and stepped forward.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah told him.

“I knew,” Ludo said. “It’s better.”

 _Better than what?_ Sarah looked at Jareth. “I’d like him to have music.”

Jareth rolled the sphere from one hand to the other. “As you wish.”

She wanted very badly to run to Ludo and hug him, but she knew that, if she did, she’d never be able to let him go.

“We will see each other again, Sarah,” Ludo said. He smiled gently. “Just not for a while.” He looked at Jareth. “I tied the bubble to Sarah’s will. She’ll have to be the one to release it. When you’re ready to go back.”

Jareth’s eyes widened just a little. “And we’re outside of time.” 

Sarah felt a little like she’d been gut punched.

Ludo started to sing, and the crystal sphere floated from Jareth’s fingertips, growing as it moved toward Ludo. The song remained audible for several minutes after the sphere swallowed Ludo and then vanished completely.

Neither Jareth nor Sarah moved until the last note ended.

She looked at him. “So we’re stuck here until I’m strong enough to stand against your mother.”

“More or less.” He made no move to rise. Instead he spread his hands. “What would you have me do?” Every possibility, every temptation, was there in his voice.

And she wanted all of it, desperately. She looked away from him and cleared her throat. “What did you learn first?”

He laughed. “How to grovel.”

“So much for starting there.” She looked at him again. “Realistically, is there any chance I won’t be you?”

“I don’t know any other way to be.”

 _And there isn’t anyone else to learn from._ She crossed the grass toward him then sat beside him. “I made us equals once.” _Just for a few moments._ “I don’t want to be anyone’s slave.”

HIs lips twitched minutely. “I’d have made you enjoy it.”

She thought she heard an implied ‘eventually’ in there somewhere. “In my… dreams, I might have the skill for that, but, really, I don’t. For making you enjoy it, I mean.” She took a deep breath. “I’m surprised you don’t want to just stick me in a bubble like Ludo.”

“If I thought you’d go willingly,” he told her dryly. “I certainly would.”

She actually considered it for a few seconds then shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t give up. You, of all people, know that.” She wanted very badly to kiss him, to feel his lips soften under hers. _Is that me wanting or is he doing something?_ To test that, she asked, “Why do you want me to touch you?” She gave the question the little twist of energy that she was coming to associate with requiring him to answer.

She could see him fighting against answering, so she folder her hands in her lap and waited.

He’d bitten through the skin on his lower lip before he answered. “I… understand that.” He choked a little then added reluctantly, “And I know you don’t.”

 _Oh._ She reached out and touched his hand, running her thumb across his fingers. “If we’re here long…” Would she be able to resist? _Do I even want to resist? Should I? Would it balance something between us?_ She knew it probably wouldn’t, but she took a deep breath and said, “Teach me, then, what you’d enjoy about me touching you when you’re mine to do with as I please.”

His smile was the barest ghost of an expression, but-- she hoped-- it was genuine. He bowed his head. “As you wish.”


End file.
